


The Cafe Scene

by capalxii



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Blushing, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, M/M, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, Other: See Story Notes, Public Humiliation, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Writing on Skin, ordering food for another person, use of food to control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 23:11:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3828415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capalxii/pseuds/capalxii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt from user CaptainOfSex: malcolm x jamie, public humiliation. Being nothing if not completely predictable, I filled the request with Malcolm as the subject of said humiliation. See notes at the end for details & explanation of the tags as I assume some of it may be uncomfortable to read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cafe Scene

It was a tough thing to do, mostly. The idea of clubs or dungeons was right out, even the safest and most secure of them; the threat of mutually assured destruction only took a man so far in this town, where if you were going down in flames, it was more common than not to hit something big on the way to drag with you.

Still, Jamie had his methods. He wished he could do more for Malcolm when he got this way, so revved up that he was practically vibrating with pent up energy, his mind running so fast he could barely sleep at night. He wished things could be a little easier but that wasn’t them, was it, and it would never be them, so he came up with alternatives.

Tonight’s alternative was dinner out. A nice cafe, bustling but not quite as crowded as normal with the rain pelting down outside. A dark table with little more than tea lights to brighten their menus as the waiter stood by patiently. A phrase for ending the whole thing that wouldn’t arouse any suspicion if others overheard it, but would be clear as day to Jamie if it were uttered. Malcolm pursed his lips and said, “I think I’ll have-”

“He’ll have the romaine salad, no dressing, to start,” Jamie told the waiter with a grin. “Then the salmon. Never eats healthy unless you force him, this one, he’d get the kid’s meal if you let him. Almost have to hold him down and shove a proper meal right into his mouth.” As he gave his own order, he could feel Malcolm’s eyes on him, glaring and burning, but when he turned his attention away from the waiter, Malcolm simply looked away, folded his menu, and handed it over.

Jamie leaned across the table, fingers intertwined. “That is what you wanted, yeah?” he asked quietly.

Lips drawn into a thin line, jaw clenched, Malcolm sat for a moment before answering. When he did, it was a simple, clipped, “Yes.”

“Good boy.” He’d said it quietly, but Malcolm sat up straighter in his chair, swallowing thickly as he glanced around. Anyone else near them could have heard it, if they’d wanted to. If their ears had been trained on the two of them. “Drink some more water.”

Malcolm really did glare at him then, but he did as he was told, grabbing his glass and taking a not-insubstantial sip. He was obedient tonight; some nights came with shouting matches, struggles and fights where Jamie had to almost physically put the man in his place. Those nights he relished, and not only because he got to blow off some steam of his own. Obedience might have made things easier, except Jamie knew obedience meant the poor old bastard had been aching for this for who knew how long, pushing aside his own needs for the worthless and ungrateful gobshites they had the displeasure of dealing with at work. A rush of possessiveness hit him, and he had to bite back the urge to grab Malcolm by the scruff of his neck and drag them back home where he could keep him safe. It wasn’t what Malcolm needed, not quite yet.

Putting the glass back down, Malcolm asked quietly, “May I have something else?”

“Nah.” The salad was the plainest thing on the menu, with the salmon coming in a close second. His own order was much more flavorful, but Malcolm's—“No, I think we’ll stick with strictly water for you. Could you get me a drink, love?”

He huffed out a sour laugh and looked down at the table. “From the bar, I suppose? I’ll have to, won’t I?”

“Might as well now, while we’re waiting,” Jamie said. “Leave your jacket.”

A blush crept up Malcolm’s cheeks, and Jamie sat back and smirked. His trousers were usually pleated, loose, roomy, and they were that way for good reason, but Jamie had pulled out the sole pair of flat-fronts that Malcolm owned that night. Bad enough for Malcolm normally, both because of how constricting they felt and the way he thought people would glance at him without his jacket to cover up. Worse still on a night like this one, with the cock cage Jamie had made him wear simultaneously reminding him of his place and making his bulge feel more prominent. For a man who deliberately kept himself detached and in the shadows, it was pure torture, but it was a torture he’d craved deeply from Jamie. He leaned forward and whispered, “If I do that, people will—they’ll stare.”

“I know,” Jamie murmured. They wouldn't, not really; it was too dark in the cafe to see much of anything, and darker still by the bar, though there was no reason for Jamie to tell Malcolm any of that. He reached across the table and tilted Malcolm’s chin up, forcing him to meet Jamie’s eyes. “But I want them to see what’s mine. Just be glad I’m not telling you to use the restroom, show off all that metal locking you up. What’s written on your chest tonight, darling? Underneath that nice dress shirt?”

His gaze dropped from Jamie’s face suddenly, cheeks redder than they had been in some time, eyes watery as worry lines creased his forehead. That was the moment Jamie had been waiting for, where Malcolm would slip into that place where he was small, inferior, powerless. “Pet.” The word barely made it past his lips, more of a shape than a sound.

“That’s right. And what do good pets do?”

He pressed his cheek against Jamie’s fingers, sighing and frowning as Jamie pulled his hand away. “What would you like to drink?”

Jamie shrugged. “Something complicated, I don’t care. And while you’re waiting, face the room, don’t try and hide. Give us a show.” He looked almost trapped as he unbuttoned his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair; as soon he was gone, Jamie flagged down their waiter and asked him to box up their meals. Standing at the bar and then having nothing better to do than think and fidget while Jamie finished his drink would be enough for one night, at least publicly. He thought to spare just a moment’s glance at Malcolm, but couldn’t take his eyes away: lips parted, brow furrowed, eyes focused on some spot on the ground to avoid noticing if others were looking at him, yet somehow he looked more relaxed than he had in ages.

By the time the drink was ready, the waiter had returned with their food and Jamie had pulled out more than enough cash to cover the bill. “We’re not staying?” Malcolm asked as he came back and sat down.

“Need to get you home, soon as I finish this,” he said, motioning to his drink. “Would you like that?”

Malcolm licked his lips and nodded. “Yes.”

He took a sip and smiled, brushing his thumb across Malcolm’s knuckles. “Good boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Use of food: Jamie interrupts Malcolm to place an order at the cafe without his input, then jokes to the waiter about Malcolm eating poorly and needing to be forced to eat well. The food is also deliberately bland. Use of a chastity device: Jamie's made Malcolm wear a cock cage in order to make him appear more prominent under his clothes. Later tells him to go stand at the bar while waiting for a drink, in full view of the rest of the cafe, knowing that Malcolm is uncomfortable with attention and thinks people will stare at the noticeable bulge at his crotch (they don't, and it's too dark). He also tells Malcolm that he could order him to use the restroom where it would be harder to hide the chastity device. It's given at the start of the fic that Malcolm has requested this, there's a phrase Malcolm can use to end things, and Jamie takes it upon himself to end things before too long, but Malcolm's discomfort is real throughout.


End file.
